


Misconception

by Nebulablakemurphy



Category: The 100
Genre: F/M, Memori baby fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:41:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27121270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulablakemurphy/pseuds/Nebulablakemurphy
Summary: After the last war John and Emori become a family of three.
Relationships: Emori & John Murphy (The 100), Emori/John Murphy (The 100), John Murphy and emori, memori, murphy and emori
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	Misconception

Earth is nice. A bit different than any of them remember. Quiet, more serene; just the remaining members of the human race and the ocean, for the rest of forever. 

The food is much nicer than algae, the ground vaster than the expanse of the tin can they’d called home for six years. 

Yet not as luxurious as the castle they’d occupied in Sanctum. But this is home, this is where they put roots down. This is where they’re going to live. 

It’s been about three months, since judgement day. Death, transcendence, and everything in between. 

Emori still loves catching her fish, proudly displaying them to anyone within shouting distance. 

Her body is beginning to fill out, just the slightest bit. In a way that assures John she’s not hungry. She’s happy, and healthy, and wants for nothing.

Days are spent with friends, that have become family. Nights are reserved for themselves, more often than not, ending up a spent pile of limbs on their makeshift mattress.

“John?” Emori mumbles, still basking in the after glow of their love making. “Are you sleeping?”

“Emori, I love you,” Murphy sighs, bonelessly curled around her back, “but I’m gonna need a few more minutes before I’m good to go again.”

“Not that,” Emori huffs a laugh. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, toying with the fingers of her badass hand.

“If something happens to me-“

“Nothing’s gonna happen.” John says, reassuring himself as well. Emori is fine, she will be fine. 

“I need to know that you won’t try to-“

“Hey,” John stops her a second time. “Baby, nothing is happening to you.“

Emori pauses, then forces the words past her lips. “I’m pregnant.”

Silence. Deafening silence. 

Murphy clears his throat. “Jackson knows?”

“Confirmed it this morning.” She nods, staring down at her hands.

“We have Sanctum.” He reasons, “all the medicine there.”

“We do.”

“Then we’ll...figure the rest out.”

“Is this alright, John?” Emori asks, with bated breath.

“All those years on the ring, when we were playing primes; the timing was bad. Always a war to fight, people to save. Now, all we have is time.” He pauses, hoping the right words will come. “I don’t love the idea of sharing you, but if it’s with our kid, you won’t catch me complaining. What I should be asking, is if this is alright with you?”

Emori allows the corners of her mouth to curl into a smile. “I want this baby, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

John takes a steadying breath, placing a hand over the barely there bump. “You and this baby will have everything you want.” He kisses her shoulder, speaking directly against her skin. “I promise.”

“You’re what I want.” Emori whispers, resting her hand over his.  
——————————————————— Emori is well on her way to the second trimester; but the nausea still gets the best of her on occasion. Causing her to just miss Raven’s shoes, as she purges the contents of her lunch onto the sand.

“You feeling alright?” Raven asks, immediately. “Should I get Murphy?”

“No, I’m fine.” Emori insists, with a shake of her head. 

“That’s the second time this week.” Raven is not so easily convinced. “Jackson should check you out.”

“Jackson has,” Emori purses her lips. “Nothing to be concerned about. I’ll survive a little morning sickness, even if it does last past morning.”

“You’re-“ The mechanic breaks off. “You and Murphy? How?”

“After years of walking in on us, you know how.” Emori rolls her, brown, eyes.

“Well, congratulations. Right?” Raven claps Emori’s back, lightly.

Congratulations...yes, that’s right. “Thank you.”

“How far along?” The brunette leans in, with renewed interest.

“Almost three months.” Emori tells her.

“Have you thought about names yet? Because I think Raven could be unisex.”

Emori let’s out a laugh. “I’ll be sure to mention it to John,” she teases. “But I think you’ll be our only Raven.”

“It was worth a shot.” The woman shrugs. “Hey, do you want to see what I’ve been working on?”

“No nuclear reactor or toxic radiation involved?”

“Why would you think that?” Raven snarks.

“Then yes,” Emori agrees, “I’d love to.”  
————————————————————  
“Hey,” John greets his love, when she enters their hut. “Good day?”

“Raven and I are working on a pipe system that will pull drinking water from the valley. We’ll be able to get it from a tap.” Emori grins, a bit of pep in her step, as she comes to lie beside him. Pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Exciting.” Murphy deadpans, leaning into her warmth.

“It means actual showers, John.” Emori stares down at him, propped up on one elbow. “No need for the lake or running back to Sanctum.”

“I thought you liked sneaking off to Sanctum.” Murphy nuzzles the underside of her jaw.

“I miss Kaylee’s bed.” 

“Maybe Raven can build you one of those.” He jest, crossing both legs at the ankle. 

“Speaking of Raven,” Emori trails off. “She suggests that the baby should also be named Raven. I told her I’d run it by you.”

“Yeah...” Murphy narrows his eyes, “not gonna happen.”

“I don’t think we should name this baby after anyone, living or dead.” Emori admits. “Bringing honor to the people we’ve lost is much bigger than that. With this baby, we start over.”

“I want that too, Em; to start over.” John whispers, there are so many things he would do differently now. “Do you have any actual names in mind, for our bundle of joy?”

“Not yet.”

“We’ll come up with something.” They’ve got time. “If not, hey you, should be sufficient.”

“Very funny.” Emori frowns, feeling her stomach turn.

“You ok?” John takes her face in his hands.

“A little nauseous, it’ll pass.”

“Be nice to your mother.” Murphy insists, attention now directed at Emori’s belly. “I’d like to keep her around.”  
————————————————————-  
Days turn into weeks, Emori’s bump grows. There is no hiding it now, even if she wanted to. The others have been very supportive, offering their babysitting services, when the time comes.

Emori flips back the flap of their shelter, waddling over to their bed and flopping down, without a word.

“Rough day?” Murphy asks, coming to sit beside her. 

Emori offers a groan, in response.

“Should I massage your feet or something?”

“Or something,” she grumbles, “my back hurts.”

“Say no more.” John eases skilled fingers over the skin of her back. Applying slight pressure to the tense muscles. “One back rub coming right up.”

Emori sighs, relaxing into his touch. 

“We should revisit names. Hey you, could make their big debut anytime now.” He murmurs, their child responds to his voice, with a swift kick.

“What are you thinking?” Emori wonders, resting her hand against the fluttering life in her abdomen.

“Odessa.” If she hates it, back to the drawing board. 

“It’s beautiful...” Her voice catches in her throat. Saying things aloud makes them real, names make them real. “Are you hoping for a girl?” 

“I’m hoping for a healthy baby, and a healthy you.” John annunciates each word for emphasis.

Emori nods, knowing better than to press the issue. “Now we need something for a boy.”

“Lady’s choice.” He kisses the back of her neck.

“Kai?” It’s different and unique, just like their child will be. 

“It’s got a ring to it.”  
————————————————————-  
“John!”

The sound of Emori’s frazzled cry has Murphy chucking his dinner plate aside. Racing for the tree line, where he finds her, perched on a log. One foot bare and elevated off the sand.

He kneels down, taking the raised leg into his lap. “What’s wrong?” John asks, unable to spot an obvious problem. “Did you trip? Something bite you?”

“My shoe fell off and I can’t reach.” Emori informs him, crossing both arms over her chest. 

Relieved, he chuckles, “that’s adorable.”

“It’s not.” Emori scowls, “I hate it. Now get the shoe.”

“Oh come on, this is the home stretch. Might as well try to enjoy it.” John will miss her belly brimming with new life. The promise of a future he wasn’t sure they’d have.

“Would you enjoy not being able to see your toes?” Emori snaps. She will do anything for her child, but she misses her independence. 

“There are worse things,” he shrugs, bending down to retrieve the shoe. “Besides, I’m more than happy to help.”

“Thank you,” Emori fights back a smile. Watching him complete the task, with a brisk kiss to her lips.  
————————————————————  
Emori’s pained groan wakes John, from a dead sleep.

“‘Mori?” He grumbles, rubbing at tired eyes.

“Don’t panic,” Emori says, curling in on herself. “I’m having contractions.”

“Yeah?” He springs into action. No false alarm this time. “How far apart?”

“Not far enough.” She attempts to lighten the mood. 

“We need to wake up Jackson, and get you to Sanctum. Can you walk?”

“I can try.” She nods, through gritted teeth.

“Never mind, I’ve got you.” Murphy sighs, lifting Emori carefully into his arms.

“Before we go...” Emori stalls, knowing he won’t like what she has to say. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Talking can wait, this can’t.” Murphy replies, moving quickly toward the doctor’s tent.

“If things don’t go as planned and it’s a choice, between me and the baby; you choose the baby. You choose the baby over me, you choose this baby over everyone.”

“Emori, we’re not doing this now.” He shakes his head.

“Promise me, John.” Emori feels tears burning at the back of her eyes, but makes no effort to fight them.

“Emori-“

“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.“ 

“I won’t let anything happen to either of you.” This is the time that everything goes to plan. This is the time it has to.

“Promise me.” Emori’s voice is hoarse, as another contraction seizes her muscles.

“I promise.” He promises that neither of them are going anywhere. Losing Emori once was bad enough.  
————————————————————-  
They’re back in the operation room, the same one where John lost the love of his life. The equipment is here, poised and ready to go. It only makes sense for it to be here. Fate is cruel that way.

“Alright, Emori,” Jackson touches her knee. “You’re a full ten centimeters. When you feel the next contraction, I want you to push.” 

John doesn’t miss the nervous tremor of her bottom lip. “You and me,” he reminds her. ”We’re doing this together.” 

“I love you, John.” Emori smiles, through the pain. Then taking a deep breath in, she bears down.

“I love you too.” Murphy whispers, squeezing her hand tightly. Although it kills him to see Emori in pain, John remains calm and focused. This time it’s for something, this time she isn’t dying. “Good job, baby.” 

They continue on like this, until her limbs are heavy with exertion, and his hand has lost all feeling.

The exasperated sound that leaves Emori’s lips, with a puff of air, is bearable. The tortured whimper that follows makes John wish he could do it for her.

“Emori, you’re doing great.” Jackson assures her. Stealing a glance at the beeping monitors beside the bed. “But I’m starting to see signs of fetal distress.”

“What’s that mean?” Murphy demands. 

“It means we’ve gotta move this baby.” Jackson confirms both of their fears.

“I’m trying,” Emori says.

“What if she can’t?” John asks, watching fear and defeat paint her features. 

“Then the only option would be a cesarean section.” None of them want that. But they have the equipment, he has the experience.

“Look, no offense, but we all remember what happened the last time you pulled something out of her.”

“This is different.” Jackson reminds him, “no internal damage.”

“We’ve been at this for hours, maybe Jackson’s right,” Emori agrees. Anything for this baby.

“I know you’re tired. But I need you to finish strong. Our baby needs you to finish strong. When the next contraction comes, you’re gonna push like hell, and we’re gonna have this baby.” Murphy insists, helping her lean up, so that he can climb onto the table behind her, for support. Her back now resting against his chest, with his legs bracketing hers.

“Ok,” Emori nods, adjusting her grip on John’s hands. “But if it doesn’t work-“

“It will work.” It has to. John rests his cheek against hers. Feeling Emori’s body begin to tense with the next contraction. “3,2,1, go.”

Through gritted teeth, Emori finally manages to move the stubborn baby down. Of all the birthing positions they’ve tried, this one finally seems to help a bit. 

“Here comes the head,” Jackson announces.

“That’s what I’m talking about, Emori.” John kisses her sweat damp temple, her head clunking back onto his shoulder. “Deep breath, do it again.”

The scream that follows could raise the dead, full fear and desperation and then-

A second voice joins hers, much smaller and higher in pitch. A baby, their baby. Announcing it’s arrival to the world. 

“Hey, you’re done.” Murphy says, grounding her to reality. “You did it.” 

“I did it,” she smiles, peeling her eyes open.

Jackson places the wailing child on her chest.

Still covered in dark blood, she is the most perfect, wonderful, thing either of them have ever seen.

“Hi baby,” Emori let’s tears fall freely, “my baby.”

“Get a load of you, beautiful.” Murphy whispers to the infant. Her tiny eyes are open wide, trying to focus on the sound. “Welcome to the world.”

“She’s got your eyes.” Emori would recognize that color blue anywhere.

“You ok?” John asks, noticing how lax she’s become.

“Fine.” Emori assures him. “Tired, but fine.”

“Everything alright down there, doc?” He calls to Jackson.

“Everything’s good.” The doctor is all smiles. “Once she delivers the placenta, I’ll stitch her up and we’re all clear.”

Both their heads snap toward him.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got anesthetic this time.” Jackson clarifies.

Relieved Emori sinks back into John, humming to the newborn, who is beginning to stur.  
————————————————————-  
The sleepless nights are endless. Leaving the first time parents worried that maybe they aren’t cut out for this. Maybe they aren’t doing enough. But after a few weeks, they fall into a routine.

Odessa is a happy baby, with her father’s eyes and a head full of chestnut curls. She resembles Emori for the most part, which pleases John to no end. The little girl has everyone wrapped around the tiny fingers of her badass hand.

“Did you teach her to fish yet?” John calls, spotting Emori at the shoreline. Holding their daughter to face the waves, basking in the orange glow of the setting sun. “She’s gotta start pulling her weight around here,” he jests. Closing the distance between them, to caress Odessa’s chubby cheek.

“She might be a little young to cast a net.” Emori laughs, feeling John press a kiss to her head. “But she’ll learn.”

The eleven month old kicks her legs, reaching out for her father. “Dada.”

“She wants you.” Emori takes a step toward him.

“Not your finest decision, kid.” He mutters, under his breath. Taking the little girl into his arms. “I’d much rather be held by your mother.”

Emori smiles at the scene before her. Their daughter latches onto Murphy’s nose, with her right hand. “Fatherhood suits you, John.”

“I don’t know about all that.” The only thing that he knows for sure, is that he can’t mess up. He can’t mess her up.

“I do.” Emori assures him. 

Murphy stares at his wife, with nothing but adoration and wonder; their child in his arms. “We should do this again sometime.” He nods toward Odessa.

“Funny,” Emori raises her brows. “I was thinking the same thing.”


End file.
